


Icarus

by virvatulilla



Series: Short stories about wings [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:46:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virvatulilla/pseuds/virvatulilla
Summary: Despite the title, this short story has nothing to do with the Icarus myth. Low fantasy setting.





	Icarus

The first Saturday of May seemed to be a wonderful day. I was returning home from my morning walk, headphones on my head, when something big fell in front of me on the sidewalk. My first thought was that someone had just jumped from the roof of the building next to me – but then I saw that what was in front of me was something more or less human, and that person had golden wings on their back.

I took the headphones off and squatted down beside the winged person. He didn't look dead, and when I cautiously shook one of their bare shoulders, he grunted with a deep voice, turning his head towards me. The dark curls on his forehead were tacky from blood.

“Hey,” I said, when the winged person tried to focus their gaze on my face. “Do you need help?”

For a moment it occurred to me that he might not understand me, but then the curly head nodded, shaking. “Hiding… please…” the stranger wheezed. Then his eyelids fluttered close, and now I was in the middle of a street with an unconscious, winged person. I didn't know what else to do, so I lifted him in my arms to take him to my home and call an ambulance from there, since I didn't have a phone with me.

When I got home I took him straight to the bathtub, because it would be easiest to wash from the blood. One of the golden wings was probably broken, it was dangling in a weird position and was in the way. I was so confused from what had happened, that only when I was sitting back against the bathtub's edge I started wondering why a body that looked so strong had been so light to carry. And only when the winged person in my bathtub started to gain consciousness, it suddenly occurred to me that I had just carried a half naked man home in my arms.

“Where am I?” came a groan from the bathtub.

“Hiding,” I answered from my new hiding place behind the sink.

“Hiding?”

“That's what you asked for before you blacked out.”

There were noises that you can hear when a winged person tries to sit properly in a bathtub.

“What are you?” I inquired, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible.

“ _What_ am I?”

“Yes.”

There was a long silence. “Icarus,” was his answer eventually.

“Your name?”

“Icarus.”

“ _That_ Icarus?”

No answer.

“ _What_ are you, Icarus?”

”Isn't it obvious?”

I snorted. “Not to me.”

“Come here.”

I hesitated for a moment, then stood up and walked beside the bathtub. As my gaze settled on Icarus I was suddenly very aware of my own appearance. Even in the bathroom's pallid light his dark, messy curls and blood-stained skin looked better groomed than I ever could.

“Can you see these wings?” Icarus asked, shifting the mentioned body parts. I nodded, and Icarus slowly lifted himself higher. “Where are your wings?”

“I don't have wings.”

Icarus gave me a puzzled look. “All angels have wings,” he said, perceptibly taken aback.

“So, you're an angel?” I asked. Icarus nodded. “Do you live in heaven?”

My question made Icarus even more puzzled. “Heaven?”

“Yes,” I said impatiently. “No? Where do you live then?”

Icarus frowned. “Don't you know?”

It was my turn to be puzzled. “Why should I know?”

“Because you are an angel,” Icarus said.

To Icarus's wonder I burst out laughing. “Me?” I snorted. “Right.”

Icarus's gaze didn't even flinch when he slowly shook his head. “It wasn't a joke,” I heard him mutter as I turned away.

 

I managed to keep Icarus hidden the weeks that it took him to heal. Icarus was very cooperative regarding staying hidden. I lent him my oversized hoodie – my only piece of clothing that fit him without having to cut holes for his wings. Especially a half-naked man in my room would raised unpleasant questions.

At his request I didn't tell anyone about Icarus. I didn't know what he was hiding from, and he didn't talk about himself much. At first I startled every time I saw him quietly sitting in a corner of my room, but eventually I got used to his presence.

After the last day of school I went to my room and saw Icarus sitting on my bed as usual, but that time something was different.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting beside Icarus on the bed. He looked at me with his yellowish eyes for a moment, then turning his gaze away. “You have kept me hidden,” he said after a long silence.

“Was it wrong?” my heart started beating faster against my ribcage.

Icarus shook his head. “You were better than what I could have hoped to expect of anyone here.”

“What were you expecting then?” I asked with a small laugh.

Icarus shrugged. “Torture.”

I gave an incredulous laugh, but my smile faded when I saw his expression. “Ah,” I said quietly. “I understand.”

Icarus sighed, shaking his head. The back of his hoodie was bulging as his wings shifted beneath the fabric. “You cannot understand,” he said.

“You could let me try.”

I met Icarus's gaze with a firm expression, and something in the situation made him give the slightest smile – but even that was more than I had seen him show his feelings until then. Icarus put his hand on my forehead. I felt slight tingling in the places where his fingertips touched my skin. “Sleep,” Icarus whispered. I was about to protest, but a huge yawn took my objecions with it, and before I noticed it I had fallen asleep.

 

When I opened my eyes again, the moon was shining its light on my face from the open window, and Icarus was gone.

I jumped on my feet in a split second to check that he wasn't hiding in any dark corners of my room. The first night I had found him under my desk, but this time I didn't found the winged person anywhere.

I sat heavily down on my bed. As I pressed my face into my hands I noticed something in my hand that hadn't been there when I had fallen asleep.

In the moonlight the feather looked white, but I still recognized it as Icarus's golden feather. I pressed it against my chest. Before this I had barely even noticed how much I had cared for Icarus. He was silent and patient, astonishingly wise, and had always managed to surprise me with small, thoughtful gestures that had made me believe that the feeling I had for him was mutual.

“Why are you crying?”

The voice from the open window startled me. As I looked that way I saw a winged person standing in the window. For a second my heart filled with hope as I thought that the person was Icarus, but then I saw his wings. Completely unlike Icarus's, this person's wings were so black that even the darkest corners of my room paled in comparison.

“What have you done with Icarus?” I growled. “Where is he?”

The black-winged angel gave a laugh, shooking their head. “That is a question I would like to ask from you, my dear.”

I didn't get to show the anger churning inside me, when the angel was suddenly next to me. They grinned, grabbing my shoulder, and suddenly everything was black again.

 

I woke up again, in a place I did not recognize. Today my cheek was pressed against a cold marble floor, and hollow voices somewhere above me were in a heated debate, but I couldn't distinguish the words.

Suddenly Icarus was next to me. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, noticing that I was awake. “I wouldn't have wanted to pull you into this.”

My head was aching and I couldn't move my limbs. I muttered something vague about the black angel, and Icarus pressed a hand on my head.  “ I know,” he whispered.  “ Lucifer already confessed to kidnapping you to make me return.”

I tried to talk, but Icarus shushed me to stay silent.  “ Brotherly jealousy,” he whispered.  “ Actually Lucifer would have wanted you for himself, and now he regrets that he practically offered me to you that morning the two of us met.”

I didn't understand half of what he was saying, and Icarus seemed to sense my uncertainty. He stroke my cheek softly, and whispered,  “ just wait for a little longer.” And he was gone again.

Icarus's “little longer” lasted a lot longer than mine would have. Once Lucifer walked into my field of vision, stood there staring at me for a while, and then returned to where he'd came from as dreams and darkness overtook me again.

I was lying on my back on an uneven stone floor when Icarus finally stooped above me. “Come,” he said. With one flick of his hand my limbs were free. Icarus helped me to stand on my shaky legs. As we walked out from the stone building he decided that he couldn't wait for my feet to regain their strength, swooped me in his arms and jumped into the air.

I studied Icarus's face as he was flying. It, as well as his whole being seemed more expressive than before.

“Why would Lucifer have wanted to have me?” I finally asked. “Am I special in some way?”

For a moment I thought Icarus wouldn't give me an answer, but after a while he opened his mouth. “Angels like you are very valuable,” Icarus said. “Especially to the likes of my brother, who would use you to who knows what suspicious and forbidden things.”

“But I'm not an angel.”

“Yes you are.”

“How can that be possible?”

“Honestly, I don't know,” Icarus admitted as he landed on the roof of a tall observatory. To the other side of the sky the stars were already visible, and the sun setting behind Icarus made his wings glow like they had been ablaze. He lowered me to stand on my feet, but kept his hands on my waist. “I don't care whether you're valuable to other people or not, nor whether you're really an angel or not. I love you despite what you're like, or what you are.”

Icarus's yellowish eyes looked deeply into mine. I held my breath.

“I'm not an angel,” I repeated stubbornly.

Icarus smiled and softly grabbed my chin with his hand. Our gentle first kiss tickled my lips like a feather. Soon I felt the last rays of the sun hitting our faces. My hands had found their way into Icarus's dark curls.

It felt like a good start. Icarus looked at me and smiled.

“One does not need wings in order to be an angel,” he said.


End file.
